Damaged
by Poppyseed
Summary: Dawn's death sends Ryan into a downward spiral. S1 fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **A Ryan-centric story set somewhere in mid-season one (post Oliver). Ryan deals with the death of his mother in the only way he knows how. Slight AU.

**A/N:** I just wanted to write a very angsty story that had a lot of PDP. Expect a lot of heartfelt Ryan/Sandy moments.  
I am very slow to update, so be warned before starting this story. I do promise to finish it though.  
I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

"These eggs almost taste like mom made them." Seth grabbed at his throat and added a few gagging noises for effect. "Quick, Ryan, pass the juice."

Ryan laughed and didn't even bother to put down his fork as he passed the jug across the table to Seth. Though it wasn't even 7:30 yet, the whole family was together for a rare, early morning, shared breakfast. It wasn't planned, but when the Cohens plus one had found themselves all scrounging for breakfast at the same time, Kirsten had suggested they eat as a family. She promised not to cook.

They were just falling into their familiar rhythm of eating and quick paced bantering, when the phone rang. Ryan didn't look up from his breakfast. No one he knew would call so early on a Saturday. Kirsten jumped to answer it.

"Hello?" Ryan felt her eyes on him. "Yes, I'll accept the charges."

Ryan dropped his fork and felt his stomach lurch in anticipation. The only collect calls that ever came into this house were from his family.

Kirsten held her hand over the receiver and motioned to Ryan as his suspicions were confirmed. "It's your brother."

He rose, without saying a word, and took the cordless phone from her hands. It struck him that the whole family had stopped eating and were staring at him now. He ducked his head, and went out to the patio where they couldn't eavesdrop on his conversation.

"Trey?"

"Hey, Ry. How are you?"

"Why are you calling me?"

"It's about mom. I thought you should know. I wasn't sure if anyone would tell you."

"What about her?"

"She's dead Ry. Committed suicide. They found her body a few days ago." There was silence on the other end of the line. "She was buried yesterday. No ceremony or anything."

Ryan nodded, unaware that his brother couldn't see it.

"You're free now Ry. She can't mess up your life anymore..."

* * *

Ryan stepped back inside less than five minutes after he had left. The room was quieter now. He knew they were all trying to read him. Trying to figure out why his brother had called him for only the second time since he had moved in with them.

"Everything okay?" Sandy asked, trying to gauge his son's emotions.

Ryan nodded, not wanted to share the news just yet. "Yeah. I think I'm gonna go visit Trey, if that's alright. He seems lonely." He shrugged. "I haven't seen him since Thanksgiving."

Kirsten nodded, and swallowed her last bite of bacon. "Of course honey. Do you want us to go with you?"

He shook his head. "No, that's okay. I won't be gone long." He could feel Seth staring at him, but he refused to make eye contact.

Sandy stood up and handed Ryan the keys to the car. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yah, fine. Like I said, I won't be gone long." He took the keys and started out the door. "Thanks."

Seth stood up quickly and threw his napkin down on the table. "I'm just gonna go see if he wants some company." He glanced at his parents. "Or something." Seth sprinted out of the house and caught up with Ryan in the driveway. "Hey, man, you sure everything's okay?"

"Yah, I just need to take care of some things."

Seth nodded, staring at Ryan disbelievingly. "Take care of things like visit your brother in jail or take care of things like deliver a stolen car and get the crap kicked out of you?"

"It's nothing Seth. It's not a big deal."

"Are you sure you don't want some company?" Seth squinted, blocking out the harsh early morning sun. "I probably can't help much in the ass kicking arena, but I do have the new Legion comic."

Ryan shook his head and climbed into the car. "I can't read and drive Seth." He hesitated and looked back down at Seth, staring at him from the porch. "Thanks, but I'll be back before lunch."

Seth just nodded and waved good-bye. He hoped Ryan knew what he was doing.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan slowly pulled the Range Rover to the curb. He stared at the house where he had grown up. Trey had told him that his mom was back with AJ. They were back together, and living in their old place. AJ had apparently been the one to find her. He had been gone for days on a bender, and stumbled home, wasted, to find her dead in bathtub.

Ryan refused to believe she was gone. She had left him twice already, but he couldn't deal with the thought of her abandoning him permanently. It was too much, even by Dawn's standards.

He didn't know what he was hoping to find as he walked up the littered lawn to the front door. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he was pretty sure of what he'd find.

The front door was open. Not just unlocked, but wide open. He peered in cautiously. The place was a mess, much like it was when he lived there. The furniture was different. And it was sparse. There was no TV in the living room, though he wasn't sure why this one detail stood out so much.

He stepped in, recoiling slightly as the stench of death and stale cigarettes assaulted his nose. The counter where his mother had once left him a note after taking off was strewn with unopened mail, dirty dishes, and empty beer bottles. An ashtray full of butts threatened to topple off the side and smash to the floor. He strode forward, and pushed it toward the center of the counter. His eye caught an envelope with his name written on it. It was his mother's handwriting. She had left him a note.

He glanced around the house, thinking that he may have made a mistake in coming here, but a noise from the back of the house interrupted his thoughts. He was not alone. He shoved the note in his pocket and braced for the worst.

AJ was drunk, and not thrilled to see Ryan.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He toyed with the idea of leaving, but his questions were still unanswered. "Now it's your house? She dies and you just what, take everything and call it yours?"

"You ungrateful little prick!" He lunged toward Ryan.

Ryan stepped back. "Ungrateful? What have you ever done for me but put me in the ER?"

There was no avoiding a fight now and Ryan knew it. He didn't know why he had come all this way just to pick a fight with AJ, but there was no avoiding it now.

AJ landed the first punch, square on Ryan's jaw. Ryan felt his lip split and blood splattered on the cheap linoleum floor. Though AJ was twice his size, Ryan had no intention of going down without a fight. He managed to get in one good punch, probably breaking AJ's nose, before realizing that he couldn't win. AJ landed another punch, this time to Ryan's eye. Ryan was knocked off balance, and AJ, seizing the opportunity, swung again and knocked Ryan to the floor. Instinctively he curled into a ball to protect himself, but AJ wasn't finished. AJ pulled back, and connected his boot to Ryan's ribcage. Ryan felt the wind knocked out of him. AJ continued to kick him, yelling and swearing, until Ryan felt his pain fading, and he slipped out of consciousness.

* * *

Ryan wasn't sure how long he had been out, but AJ was gone by the time he came to. He rose slowly off the ground, cringing at the pain in his side. AJ might have broken one of his ribs. He took in a deep breath, and confirmed his suspicion. He doubled over in pain. He needed to get out of that house.

He stood, and, as an afterthought, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey that sat on the dirty counter, unopened, and walked out to the front porch. He glanced at his watch, a present from Kirsten. It was noon. He had been gone for hours. He knew that the Cohens would start to worry soon, but he couldn't go home yet. He needed to read his letter. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. Kirsten and Sandy would be so angry if they knew he was still smoking. It calmed his nerves. He had never been able to explain that to them, so he kept his habit secret, tucked away with all the other painful things he hid in order to protect them. He lit a cigarette and took in a long drag, coughing slightly at the sharp pain in his chest. He unscrewed the top of the whiskey bottle and took a long drink, hoping it would help the pain. He wasn't quite ready to read his letter yet.


	3. Chapter 3

The day was fading quickly, and the Cohens were worried. Ryan had promised to be home by dinner, but it had come and gone without a word from him. The phone had only rung once, and that had been from Child Services, calling with the information on Dawn. The paperwork had gotten misplaced, and the agent had apologized for being late in informing the Cohens and Ryan.

Sandy was angry. Angry at Social Services for being so inefficient all the time, angry at Trey for breaking the news to Ryan, angry at Ryan for not trusting them with the information, and angry at himself for not realizing how upset Ryan had been when he left.

"He may have gone to visit Trey." Kirsten broke the silence that hung so heavy over the kitchen where the three of them sat, picking at leftovers. "He may have been telling the truth. He could be stuck in traffic, he could have stopped for dinner -"

"But he still hasn't called," Sandy interrupted. "If he had been honest with us, we could have helped him with whatever knee jerk instinct he's working on right now."

"We don't know for sure that he lied. He could have gone to see Trey."

"Fat chance," Seth muttered, as he spun off his bar stool and headed out of the kitchen. He intended to retreat to his bedroom to call Ryan. He knew that it was far more likely that Ryan would answer if he saw Seth's number calling, but he didn't make it far.

"What did you say?" Sandy demanded.

Apparently Seth's comment had come out louder than he expected. "What? I didn't say anything."

"Seth Ezekiel Cohen. What do you know about all of this?" There was no denying Kirsten when she used that tone. Seth hesitated, trying to come up with some excuse to get him out of his current predicament.

"Seth, sit down." Now Sandy was in on the parenting too. "Tell us what you know."

Seth shrugged as he resumed his seat. "I can honestly say, I have no idea where he is."

"Tell us what you know," Kirsten ordered.

Seth stared back and forth between his parents, trying to gauge just how serious they were. He sighed. He knew he was stuck. "I don't think he went to see Trey." When it appeared that his answer was not enough to satisfy them, he continued. "I just know that the last time Ryan saw his brother, Trey sort of said good bye. In his own, unhealthy Chino like way"

Before Sandy could force Seth to fill him in on the details of the goodbye, the phone rang.

* * *

Ryan was drunk. Very drunk. He wanted to be alone, but he certainly didn't want to sit on the steps of his old house, waiting for AJ to return. It was time to go home, he knew that, but he was in no condition to drive. He started walking, hoping to sober up and come up with some sort of plan. The alcohol had at least taken the edge off his pain. He knew he must look like a mess, and he knew that it was getting late. The Cohens would be worried by now. He pulled out his cell phone and did the only thing he knew how to do.

* * *

Seth jumped to answer the phone, but at the look he got from Sandy, he quickly sat back down. Sandy answered it on the second ring. 

"Hello?"

There was a hesitation on the other end. Ryan sighed. "Sandy?"

"Ryan, where are you?" His voice was firm, but calm.

"Chino." Sandy could here him taking a long, deep breath. "I need a ride."

Seth looked on, hoping Ryan wasn't calling from jail.

"What's wrong with the Rover?"

Kirsten's head snapped up. Not again.

Again Sandy heard a sharp intake of breath on the other line. Was he smoking? Why did his voice sound so off? "I just need you to pick me up, okay." There was a long pause. "I'm drunk Sandy"  
Sandy nodded. "I'll be right there." Ryan quickly explained where he was and hung up.

Sandy stood up and grabbed his keys. Kirsten wasted no time pumping him for information. "Where is he? What's wrong?"

"Dude, don't tell me he got the Rover smashed up at the IMAX again."

Sandy shot Seth a look that let him know he didn't appreciate his attempt at humor. "He's in Chino. He's drunk. I'm going to pick him up."

"I'm coming." Kirsten wanted to be there, to make sure Ryan was okay. 'No, you stay here. I'll be back soon." He planted a kiss on her forehead and was out the door before she could protest.

* * *

Ryan was waiting at a gas station near his old house. Sandy spotted him immediately. He was leaned against the cinderblock wall, one leg up, smoking, just as Sandy had expected. It wasn't until he got closer that he saw the bruises. 

Ryan didn't make eye contact with Sandy. He flicked away his cigarette and got in on the passenger side of the car. Sandy stared at him, waiting for an explanation. He knew there wasn't one coming. He eased the car into reverse and started back the way he had come. He didn't speak until they were safely cruising on the freeway.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

Ryan just shook his head and stared out the window. "Not really."

"Okay, we'll talk at home."

Ryan nodded and leaned his head back against the cool leather seat. He closed his eyes and wished that the ride would never end.


	4. Chapter 4

Kirsten and Seth had barely moved since Sandy had left. Seth had tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but after a few of Kirsten's "looks" and a tongue lashing that Seth would not soon forget, he gave up his attempts at inappropriate humor and busied himself memorizing the pattern of the marble countertop. They were both grateful when they finally heard the car in the driveway.

Kirsten had been on edge most of the day and let out a sharp breath when Ryan stepped into the kitchen. "Oh my god! Ryan what happened?" She glanced quickly to Sandy, and when he shrugged his shoulders, she gently guided Ryan to a stool and sat him down to examine his bruises. "Who did this to you?"

Ryan just shook his head. He didn't feel like talking about it.

Sandy took control. "Seth, upstairs." Seth opened his mouth to protest. "Now." He relented, knowing he could eavesdrop from the stairs. Once he was gone, Sandy repeated Kirsten's questions. "Ryan, what happened? Who did this to you?"

He shrugged again. "My mom died."

Sandy's voice softened and he placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "We know kiddo. Child Services called a little while ago." He hesitated, studying Ryan's face. "Are you okay?"

Ryan just nodded. "I want to go lie down."

"Ryan –" Kirsten began, lightly touching his face, "I think we need to get you cleaned up first – get you to a doctor."

He shrugged off her touch, something he rarely did. "I don't need a doctor."

She touched his face again gently, examining the wound over his eye. "This cut might need some stitches."

He shook his head. "It's fine." He briefly glanced up at Sandy and Kirsten's worried faces and then stared back down at the floor tiles. "I think I might have a broken rib though."

Kirsten's face drained of all color. "You're going to the hospital."

Sandy nodded, "I'll get the car, you-"

"No." He said it quietly, surprising even himself.

But Kirsten wasn't done mothering. "Ryan, you are going to the hospital whether you like it or not. You need –"

"Kirsten –" Ryan interrupted, "I'm fine. I've had a broken rib before. I just need to wrap it up. I'll be fine."

Sandy shook his head. "I'm with Kirsten on this one. I think you need to go to the hospital."

"Look," Ryan was getting irritated. "I know the routine. They can't do anything for me. Just give me some pain meds." He took a deep breath, steadying his emotions. "The alcohol is working just fine for now. I just want to go lie down."

Sandy nodded. "We need to talk about this."

"Later, please?"

Kirsten began to protest, but Sandy stopped her. "Go, lie down. Sleep this off. Then you're going to see a doctor."

Ryan nodded. "'kay. Thanks." He left the kitchen without another word.

Kirsten waited until Ryan was out of earshot before speaking again. "Sandy, we can't just let him go. He needs to see a doctor."

Sandy grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Honey, he'll be fine. When he wakes up, we'll take him to see Dr. Chu."

Kirsten stared out the kitchen window towards the pool house. "I wish he would talk to us. Tell us what he was thinking." She shook her head. "I want to know who did that to him."

"Give him time honey. He'll –" Sandy was interrupted by a crash from the living room. He spun around and saw Seth grinning sheepishly from around the corner. "Show's over Seth. Upstairs now."

"I was just gonna go check on Ryan. You know, make sure he has enough pillows and all that." He started towards the door, but didn't make it far.

"Seth Ezekial, you are to leave Ryan alone." The dreaded middle name twice in one day. Seth knew better than to argue with his mother when she got this way.

"Fine," Seth threw his hands up in defeat, "but don't blame me if you rack up thousands in chiropractic bills because he's not getting the lumbar support he needs."

"Room, now." Sandy's tone was stern.

"Alright, alright. I get it. Leave Ryan alone. Go to my room." Seth rolled his eyes as he headed upstairs to his bedroom.

Sandy wrapped his arms around Kirsten as the pair stared out into twilight towards the pool house. "He'll be okay."

Kirsten just sighed. She squeezed Sandy's hand and hoped that he was right.

* * *

Ryan was alone in the pool house when he woke up. He half expected Sandy to be standing guard over him. He sat up and immediately recoiled from the pain in his chest. His head was pounding. He glanced around the room and spotted his backpack near the bathroom. He grabbed it and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He stepped outside, around the back of the pool house and sat down. He had barely taken two drags when Sandy walked up.

"Ryan, we need to talk."

Ryan didn't acknowledge him, just kept smoking.

Sandy sat down next to him. "I thought you quit?"

He shrugged.

"Look, Ryan, I know you're never going to talk the way Seth does, but right now, I need to know what's going on with you. I need to know that you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"You disappeared without telling us where you were going and came back drunk and bruised. I don't think that's okay."

Ryan stubbed out his cigarette. Sandy handed him two aspirins and a bottle of water. "Take these. They'll help your headache."

Ryan resisted the urge to ask for anything stronger and swallowed the pills dry. "Thanks." He debated lighting another cigarette. "Sorry. For today I mean."

Sandy just nodded, staring at him. "Tell me what happened Ryan."

"It's no big deal."

"Your face tells another story."

Ryan sighed. "I went to Chino. To see if it was true, you know see if she was really dead."

"And?"

He nodded. "She's gone. Killed herself."

Sandy waited patiently for Ryan to continue his story. Ryan decided that if he was going to talk, he was going to smoke. He lit another cigarette, and when Sandy didn't protest, he continued with his story. "Trey told me where she was staying. I went there – just to look around." He pointed at his face. "AJ was there too. Not exactly thrilled to see me I'd say."

"AJ did this to you?"

"He was drunk."

"Were you?"

Ryan shook his head. "No." He paused. "Not yet anyway."

Sandy sat in silence, waiting for Ryan to continue with his story, but Ryan just puffed on his cigarette and stared off into the night, lost in thought.

"Ryan." When Ryan didn't respond, Sandy tried again. "Ryan, we need to get you to a doctor."

Ryan just shook his head. "I'm fine."

"This isn't up for debate. I called Dr. Chu. He's waiting for us at the hospital." He hesitated. "Go get dressed and meet me inside."

This time Ryan just shook his head. He had no intention of going anywhere.

Sandy reached over and grabbed the cigarette from Ryan's hand. He crushed it out on the cement and repeated his request, a bit more forcefully this time. "Get dressed. Meet me inside." He stood up, ending the conversation and headed towards the house.

Ryan stared after him for a minute, then retreated to the pool house to get ready.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I'm back! It's been so long since I've written anything. I was re-watching season 1 on DVD the other day and was inspired to pick this back up. It's been awhile so I'm still finding my groove. Does anyone still read OC fics?

* * *

Less than an hour after Sandy had made his request they were sitting in the waiting room of Hoag Hospital. The drive there had been quiet. Ryan had wanted to protest when Seth was ordered to stay home, but decided to bite his tongue. He only wished Kirsten had stayed at home too. He didn't see the point in any of this. He already knew what the doctor would say. Ryan had been in this situation too many times before.

And Ryan couldn't take the look in Kirsten's eyes. Every time she looked at him with a mixture of pity and fear, he was reminded of all he had to lose. He hated that he was such a burden to a family that had already given him so much.

"Shouldn't be too much longer now." Sandy interrupted Ryan's thoughts with a quick pat on the knee. "Dr. Chu should be right out." He paused, "I think you'll like him. He helped Seth when he broke his arm skateboarding a few years back."

As if on cue, a young Asian doctor popped his head into the waiting room. "Sandy, Kirsten. Sorry to keep you waiting." He shook each of their hands and then turned to Ryan. "You must be Ryan." He looked Ryan over once. "Why don't we go check out those battle scars?"

Ryan didn't respond, but rose from his chair and followed the doctor. Kirsten and Sandy stood and, despite a desperate plea in Ryan's eyes, followed him into the exam room. Once inside he took a seat on the exam table, the white paper crinkling underneath him, while Sandy and Kirsten took a seat across from him in two plastic chairs. Ryan shifted uncomfortably. As the aspirin and alcohol were wearing off, the pain was really starting to set in. His eye was throbbing, and despite his efforts, he couldn't force himself to take a deep breath. He winced once, but when he noticed Kirsten watching his every move, he held still and tried to pretend he was fine.

Dr. Chu was busy studying Ryan's chart. "Have you had a broken rib before Ryan?"

Ryan broke his downward trance and stole a glance at Sandy and Kirsten. He managed to strangle out a quick "mmhmm" before returning his eyes to his shoes.

"And how long ago was that?" Dr. Chu was jotting down more info.

"Which time?" Ryan voice was so low he could barely be heard. This time he didn't dare to look up. He couldn't bring himself to see that look in Kirsten's eyes again.

Dr. Chu looked up from his chart. "How many times have you broken your ribs?"

Ryan shrugged.

"Twice? Three times?"

Ryan made no attempt to answer at first, but at the sound of Kirsten nervously clearing her throat he figured the faster he got this over with the better. He braved a glance at Sandy and Kirsten, both watching him, waiting for his answer. He hated that his past life continued to haunt him, that he'd never really be "normal" here no matter how hard he pretended. He fidgeted with his wrist cuff. Why did they have to come in here with him?

"Ryan?" Dr. Chu was still staring at him.

He swallowed hard. "Eight." He thought he heard Kirsten let out a small gasp, but he couldn't be sure because Dr. Chu closed Ryan's file and continued talking. If he was put off at all by Ryan's admission, he didn't let on. "Why don't we head over to x-ray and get a look." As Sandy and Kirsten stood to follow, Dr. Chu spoke again. "I think Ryan and I can handle this part. Why don't you grab a cup of coffee downstairs, and I'll keep you posted when we're finished?"

Sandy, understanding that the doctor was trying to retain what small shred of dignity Ryan had left, took Kirsten's hand and nodded. "We'll be right outside in the waiting room if you need us Ryan." Ryan ducked his head and didn't reply. "Okay?" Ryan nodded quickly, just wanting to be done with all of this, and followed Dr. Chu out of the room.

* * *

In the quiet of the empty waiting room Kirsten let go of the breath she had been holding. "How does a 16 year old kid break his ribs 8 times," Kirsten whispered, "nine," she added as she closed her eyes and let the full weight of the disclosure hit her. "Dear God Sandy."

Sandy squeezed her hand, but didn't say anything. He had read Ryan's file. He knew that broken ribs were only a small part of Ryan's history. He had wanted to show the file to Kirsten, if not to share his burden, then to show her what she had a right to know, but he wouldn't betray Ryan's trust. Ryan wasn't ready to talk about his past, and if there was one thing Sandy wanted to prove to Ryan it was that he was trustworthy.

* * *

The minutes felt like hours as they sat waiting for Dr. Chu and Ryan to return. Kirsten had had one too many cups of cheap, black coffee, making her already jittery nerves even more so. She shifted in her seat for what felt like the hundredth time while Sandy paced the hallways. Finally, Dr. Chu appeared with news.

"Sandy and Kirsten?"

Kirsten stood, joining Sandy as he approached the young doctor. "How is he?"

"He's fine, just getting dressed." He motioned to the empty chairs that Kirsten had just abandoned. "Can we sit?" Once they were all seated he continued. "The x-ray shows two broken ribs here," he gestured to his own left side, indicating where the injury was located. "He has some bad bruising and swelling in the area as well, probably the result of a blunt force."

Sandy could feel his jaw tense, his anger rising at a grown man who would inflict that kind of damage on a child.

Dr. Chu continued. "I put a couple stitches in the cut above his eye, though he asked me not to. I think it will help reduce the scarring." He reached for his prescription pad. "He's otherwise fine, though badly bruised. He's going to be sore for awhile, especially those ribs." He began to scribble something on the pad in his lap. "I'm going to write him a prescription for a painkiller, just in case the pain gets too bad. I've told Ryan to squeeze a pillow if he needs to cough or sneeze and to try to get a few good deep breaths in every hour or so. The pillow will just make it all a bit more comfortable." He handed the prescription to Kirsten's outstretched hand. "He will probably feel better in a couple weeks, though he won't be fully healed for closer to 6-8 weeks. He can come back in a week to have his stitches removed."

Sandy nodded, trying to imagine Ryan, under even the best of circumstances, reducing himself to squeeze pillows around the house. "Can we see him now?"

"Sure, I'll take you back."

* * *

Ryan was seething, his shirt in his lap when the Cohens entered the exam room. Despite his best efforts, he simply couldn't get his shirt on because of the pain. He hated this feeling of helplessness.

Kirsten reached forward to help, but hesitated when her eyes fell upon the bruises up and down his ribcage. Her stomach lurched and for a second, Ryan saw rage in her eyes like he had never seen before.

Sandy, however, didn't hesitate and grabbed the shirt from Ryan's hands.

"I don't need your help," Ryan hissed.

Sandy didn't answer, just slid the shirt over Ryan's head and gently guided his arms through the holes. Ryan felt very much like a child at that moment.

"Can we go now?" Ryan wanted to put some distance between himself and the entire day's experience. Dr. Chu nodded, adding that if they had questions they could call him anytime, and then left. Ryan sidled off the table and drew a ragged breath as he reached for his jacket. The pain made him unsteady, and he swayed awkwardly into the doorway on his way out. He winced.

"We'll stop on the way home and fill this prescription." Kirsten rubbed her hand along Ryan's arm. "It will help with the pain."

"I'm fine." He growled through clenched teeth.

"Stop playing the tough guy Ryan, she won't let you win." Sandy grinned, but Ryan didn't return the smile and instead sank his eyes back to the ground and continued walking.

They may have forced him to see a doctor, but they couldn't force him to take the pain meds if he didn't want to. Sandy and Kirsten exchanged a look as Ryan stormed out, then followed their reluctant patient.


	6. Chapter 6

Ryan instantly retreated to the pool house when they got home. Seth was already there, waiting for him.

He nodded in the direction of Ryan's stitches. "Nice touch. Adds to the tough guy look quite nicely." Ryan grunted. "Still a man of few words. Got it." Seth motioned towards the second PlayStation controller. "Too injured to play? I'll even give you a handicap," he glanced up at Ryan's pained face, "well, a bigger handicap than usual." Ryan managed a half smile and eased himself onto the floor next to Seth. He flinched as he reached for the controller. Seth's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry. Want me to get you something?"

Ryan shook his head. "I'm alright," he managed through gritted teeth.

Seth kicked the play button with his foot as Ryan got himself settled. "Did Dr. Chu give you some gnarly pain meds?" He started the game, frantically hitting buttons the instant the screen flickered to life.

Ryan shook his head. "I guess. Kirsten filled them." He fidgeted with the controller disinterestedly. "The whiskey was working pretty well."

"Whiskey, maybe that's why you suck more than usual," Seth gloated as his ninja sliced Ryan's in half. He glanced at Ryan for approval, but Ryan's face was unchanged. "Rematch?"

Ryan nodded, but continued to play only halfheartedly. Seth filled the silence, as he always did. Ryan was glad for the distraction, and was lulled into an almost sleep by the hum of Seth's unending string of words.

"Dude! Gotcha again!" Seth's shriek startled Ryan out of his stupor, and he gasped in pain. "Whoa, sorry, man. You okay?"

Ryan nodded and tossed the controller. "Could we do this later? I'm kind of spent."

"Yeah, sure man." He tossed his controller next to Ryan's. "Need anything? Gnarly pain meds? Whiskey? Little of both?" He laughed at his joke, but Ryan's face was unaffected. He held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'll stop by later. Maybe a different game…"

"'Kay." Ryan stood up slowly trying to take a deep breath. He felt instantly lightheaded, and sat down on the bed.

"Dude, are you okay?" Seth paused at the pool house doors, concern showing on his face. "You look a little pale."

"Fine. Just tired."

Seth hesitated a minute longer to be sure Ryan was okay, then headed to the main house.

Ryan waited until Seth was gone from sight before grabbing his pack of cigarettes. He retreated to the far side of the pool house, so as to not be seen from the house. He clumsily lowered himself down onto the ground and leaned carefully against the wall before lighting up. He took a deep drag and regretted it immediately. The pain doubled him over, which caused another round of sharp pain. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. While the cigarette dangled in his hand, still burning, he righted himself and tried again, this time careful to only take a small puff. The short breath caught in his throat and threw him into a fit of coughing.

"Damn it!" He chucked his lighter and pounded his fist against the cement. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

"Ryan?"

Sandy's sudden appearance startled him and set him into another round of coughing that took even longer to stop. He slammed his fist into the cement again.

"Hey," Sandy put his hand out to stop Ryan from doing it again. "Trying to add a broken hand to your list of injuries?" He held his hand out to Ryan. "Hand them over." Ryan regarded him bitterly, embarrassed more at being caught in such a vulnerable condition than angry about the loss of his cigarettes. Sandy raised his eyebrows when Ryan didn't immediately respond. "Hand them over," he repeated.

Ryan begrudgingly held out the half empty pack.

Sandy crushed the pack in his hand and sat down next to Ryan. "What are you trying to do?"

Ryan shrugged, not sure what to say. He was trying to smoke, but that didn't really end well. He hadn't thought much past that point.

"I came out here to see how you were doing. Seth said you were looking a little pale." He studied Ryan. "How about you take one of these pain pills. They'll make you feel better." He shook the bottle in Ryan's direction.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

Sandy sighed. "You don't have to be the tough guy all the time Ryan."

Ryan didn't say anything in return, just stared off towards the sunset.

Sandy looked down at the label on the pill bottle, measured out the correct dosage and handed the pills to Ryan. "They'll ease the pain in your ribs."

Ryan let out a short breath. "My ribs are the least painful part of this day."

Sandy laid his hand on Ryan's knee. "I know." He knew the pain Ryan was feeling was so much deeper than the wounds they could see. "I'm really sorry about your mom."

His eyes clouded for a minute, tears threatening to spill, but he held it back. "That's not what I meant."

Sandy nodded, knowing exactly what Ryan was referring to. "You know, Ryan, I've seen your file."

Ryan froze. He had always assumed Sandy had seen it, but that didn't make the confirmation any easier.

"There's nothing in there that makes me think differently of you." He hesitated. "I'm also not naïve enough to think that that file tells the whole story." He let his words sink in for a minute.

Ryan looked towards the main house, avoiding Sandy's eyes. "Does Kirsten know?" His voice was low.

Sandy shook his head. "Oh, she has an idea, but no, she's never seen your file if that's what you mean." He watched Ryan, waiting for some reaction from him. "If you ever want to talk about it…"

"I don't." His response was quick and cold.

"Okay, but if you ever do, I'm here. Kirsten's here." He waited. "I'm really sorry about your mom kiddo." He held out the pain meds again. Ryan hesitated, then took the 2 pills from Sandy and popped them in his mouth. Sandy handed him the prescription bottle. "For later." He stood up and stretched his hand out to Ryan. "Why don't you try to get some sleep? It's been a long day."

Ryan stood up, on his own, and returned to the pool house wordlessly. He watched Sandy's back disappear into the main house before spitting the pills into his hand and tossing them in the trash can next to his bed. He nearly threw the rest of the bottle in too, but hesitated, then tucked them into his backpack next to a fresh pack of cigarettes. He carefully lay down on his bed and tried to fall asleep.

* * *

The clock next to his bed read 4:15 am and still, Ryan couldn't sleep. He stepped out of the pool house into the warm night air and, ever so slowly, tried to take a deep breath. Immediately it felt as though his chest were on fire. He bit his lip to keep from screaming, and his mouth filled with the salty taste of blood as he split his lip from the pressure. He cursed under his breath and gently touched his lip.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He needed to erase his mind, to quiet the voices in his head and erase the pictures of what he had seen. More than anything, he just wanted this day to end. Technically he guessed it had, but he felt as though he was in a never-ending nightmare he just needed to wake up from.

He walked slowly across the patio, the cement cool on his bare feet, and quietly opened the door to the main house. He thought if had one drink he may be able to fall asleep.

The house was quiet and still as he crept into the kitchen and quickly grabbed the first bottle in the liquor cabinet. Scotch. Not his favorite, but it would do. He didn't want to risk the noise of clattering glasses so instead unscrewed the lid and drank straight from the bottle. The smoky flavor warmed his throat as he drank. This certainly wasn't the same whiskey he had sneaked back in Chino. He glanced at the label. An expensive single malt of course. There would be no cheap, corner store liquor in the Cohen's liquor cabinet. He took another long drink then quietly returned the bottle, sliding it behind another so no one would notice it was only half as full as it used to be.

He paused a minute to be sure no one in the house had heard him then crept back to the pool house to attempt sleep again. As an afterthought, he reached into his backpack and pulled out one of his pain pills. He popped it into his mouth and returned the prescription bottle to his bag. He laid back and waited for sleep to find him.


End file.
